


Oh Alpha, Mine

by damnfancyscotch



Series: When You Lie Down With Wolves [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles, Alternate Origin Story, Background story, Character Study, Child Lydia, Child Stiles, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mates, My Idea of Alpha Power Passing On, Near Death Experiences, POV Alternating, POV Outsider, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Parent Death, Power Exchange, werewolf dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:43:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3896767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnfancyscotch/pseuds/damnfancyscotch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is the Alpha of the Argent Pack.</p><p>But he wasn't always. </p><p>Before, he was simply his mother's beautiful miracle, the only one who could braid Lydia’s hair, a frightened creature who could only save his father - not his Alpha or the beautiful dark-haired woman who spoke of change, the one that got through to a grieving and broken Allison.</p><p>After he becomes the Alpha, well...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Alpha, Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my darlings!
> 
> This is a companion/continuation piece to my other story, Fucked Up Like You. You don't actually HAVE to read FULY, but it will help you to better understand the universe in which this story takes place - tbh you'll probably be really confused if you don't.
> 
> To my continuing readers, I hope this fic helps answer some questions for you guys and that you enjoy this foray into the past of this 'verse's Stiles, through the eyes of other people.
> 
> Enjoy!

The first time she heard her Genim, it was as a gentle, disjointed rhythm that danced in her ears, sang in her blood.

_Thump… th-th-thump… thump… th-th-thump…_

The unevenness of it didn’t bother Claudia. If anything, it made him special, unlike the other babes that were growing in the bellies of other pack mates.

Victoria, two moons behind her, with her fierce little girl moving constantly; Melissa, four moons along with a peaceful lad; Natalie, just one moon along and practically glowing with happiness at the thought of having a little girl with red hair like her own – all likely to be healthy, happy babes.

None of them had a heartbeat like her sweet Genim’s.

The sound of his heart soothed her at night. She tried to ignore the crease of worry between John’s eyes, focus only on the happy rumbles he made when he felt their boy stir in her belly, responding to the touch of his father’s hand.

“The babe won’t live.” Katie informed her one bright day in her eighth moon of pregnancy, typical cold smile twisting her face.

Claudia looked up from her weaving, fighting down the urge to hurt the young ‘wolf, to rip her open from her bony collar to her newly rounded hips.

“That’s not a nice thing to say to someone, Katie.” Melissa admonished smoothly as she sat down, fingers pressed to Claudia’s knee, a friendly pressure and also a warning.

“I already told you, _human_ ,” she filled the word with utter derision, “my name isn’t Katie anymore. It’s _Kate_.” The girl tossed her wave of dark blonde hair over her shoulder. “And I’m not trying to be nice. Father says that honesty is harsh at times _because_ it is honesty.”

Melissa smiled, not letting the scathing remark disturb her. “That is true.” She leaned forward, as if in secrecy, and Katie leaned closer without thinking. “It is also true that provoking a pregnant ‘wolf can lead to very terrible things like maiming and death.”

Katie’s eyes flickered to Claudia, running over her form in a quick evaluation, before she scoffed. “You two are boring me terribly.” She informed them before she walked away.

Melissa, wise as always, waited until the girl was far enough away before she muttered, “Brat.”

“Bitch, more like.” Claudia corrected.

Melissa cast her eyes to the sky. “ _Acathia grant me strength_.” She muttered then gave Claudia a stern look. “You have to be _careful_. She’s the Alpha’s daughter.”

Claudia rolled her eyes. “As if that keeps her from being a bitch.”

“Claudia, I’m serious.” Melissa settled a basket of greens in her lap, picking through them. “You must be aware. She’s a… spirited girl.”

Claudia watched Katie as she leaned against her father’s side while he spoke to his son. Chris nodded while his Gerard spoke, paying attention to his words, but his eyes were on his wife as she made her way to where Claudia and Melissa sat. Victoria ducked her head, giving Chris the kind of good-natured glare that comes from love.

Katie’s eyes tracked her brother’s wife too, a strange light there, as she watched the human woman move across the grass.

“She’s more than spirited, Melly.” Claudia whispered, hands over her belly as Genim stirred restlessly. She wondered if he could feel the dread pooling in her stomach. “She’s dangerous.”

\-----

Her throat was itchy, threatening to close up and choke her and the noise was _so loud_ in her ears.

Whispering _whispering_ …

She smacked at the side of her head, hitting the tangled pigtails that she couldn’t undo because her momma would be back soon to fix her hair again and she didn’t want to undo them until momma and daddy and Scott’s daddy and Ethan and Aiden got back… back from their trip with Aunt Kate…

The sounds were getting louder.

She looked around for Claudia. Claudia always knew how to make the voices stop, she just did, and she made them stop when Ally’s momma died and Lydia needed her now now _now_.

She looked over and saw Genny’s legs, twitching and kicking from behind a tree, and got really, really scared.

Genny couldn’t die. She needed him. No one understood her like Genny, not even Ally who was her best friend in the whole world and… and…

_They won’t stop whispering!_

_Why are they whispering?!_

_What’s going on?_

_Why? Why? Why why why? Why why why why why…_

The hurt in her throat got worse and worse and worse and worse and –

She dropped her mouth open, drew the biggest breath she could, and _screamed_.

Screamed and screamed and screamed.

She only stopped screaming when she felt Genny’s arms around her, skin too hot and hands sticky-red.

“Lydy! Lydy!” He cried, holding her tight. “It’s gonna be okay!” He sniffled.

She looked up at him, felt the tears on her face and saw the ones on his. She grabbed onto him, saw the mark on his arm, just like the one on her side. He never had that before…

She looked over and saw Claudia, lying still on the ground, which was silly because Lydia could hear growling and the scary creaky sound that the other things made so the fight wasn’t over so she shouldn’t be lying down right now…

She squeezed Genny’s arms tighter and stared at his momma's body.

Because Claudia was dead.

Genny held Lydia tight, rocked her a little, and barely cried at all.

When the fighting died down, Melissa came and brought them into the trees a little ways, eyes red and hands shaking, to huddle together with Scott who watched everything with his big, dark eyes. Allison sat with her hands in fists a little bit away from them.

“What are they saying?” Lydia asked, looking at Genny’s pale face, skin splattered with his marks but also with blood.

“My grandpa is dying.” Allison whispered as tears rolled down her face.

“Oh.” Lydia whispered, feeling tightness in her throat again. She pressed her face into Genny’s stomach, locked her arms around him tight as the pressure got worse and worse, and finally, _she had to_ , let out another scream.

Genny smoothed his hand over her hair, over and over again like momma did, pulled the ties from her braids, and she let him. He brushed out her hair with his fingers and made her sit up, forehead on his chest. Slowly, carefully, he plaited her hair again, twisting it into braids that only felt a little lumpy when she touched them.

“Thank you.” She sniffed, trying her best not to sob.

“Anything for you, Lydy.” He said, rubbing his wet cheek onto hers, tears mixing as he scent-marked her.

\-----

The sudden volley of wolfsbane sachets from the trees wasn’t something that John expected, even though he never trusted that the journey to the Council meeting would be simple, not with that viper Peter along with them.

The twang of bowstrings releasing had him hunching down, trying to reach his Alpha through the confusion, but Chris was too far ahead of him, trying to keep himself between Laura and the treeline. The Hale guards barely moved, standing still by the side of the road, shields up to cover themselves but making no move to protect their Matriarch or her companions.

John pulled his horse’s reins back causing the beast to rise up on its hind legs before dropping heavily down on top of a man trying to yank him from the saddle. He was then yanked from the other side and had his claws out in an instant, ready to rend the foolish Hunter who thought he’d go down without a fight.

He blinked into Stiles’ orange-brown eyes, just like Claudia’s, and froze, hand half-raised to strike.

“Come on.” Stiles hissed, yanking him into the trees while looking over John’s shoulder at the ruckus.

“Chris–” He didn’t finish the statement as he felt the wrench in his gut, causing him to stumble. His Alpha, his brother...

“Is dead.” Stiles affirmed, eyes hard and hand clutching at his stomach for a moment before he pushed further into the trees and dropped into a crouch.

“What are you doing here? I told you to stay home, help with the den!” John scolded quietly, crouched next to him.

Stiles’ eyes flashed gold. “I had to come!” He whispered hotly. “I trust Laura! But I don’t trust _him_.” He turned his gaze to the road, muscles tense as Laura’s protests, the whinny of horses, and the _fwip_ of a few more arrows rang through the air.

John bit down on his next comment, willing himself to see it not from the point of an angry father, but from the eyes of a scared son, a beta with good instincts. He sighed. “It seems you were right not to trust him.”

“I didn’t want to be right.” Stiles mumbled, bitterness twisting his tone. He opened his mouth to say something else before he slammed his hand over it and bit down, the burst of blood ripe in John’s nose.

“What is it?” John asked softly, looking back toward the road.

There Peter sat, astride his terrifying warhorse, knife in hand, smug smile twisting his face, blue eyes blazing and utterly _mad_ as blood dripped down his arm.

Laura, eyes wide, mouth working wordlessly, throat open like another mouth, gurgled for a moment before she slumped over her horse’s neck, brown eyes going blank.

John looked at his son when he let out a quiet whine of distress. His hand was held over his mouth so tightly that the fingers were pale, tears streaming down his face.

John opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the bark of “There was another one. Find him!” had him reaching out to snag Stiles’ elbow instead, pulling him away.

“Come on, son, we have to go.” He breathed softly, trying to urge Stiles into motion.

Stiles nodded his dark head too fast, his heart hammering as he moved blindly ahead, tears clouding his eyes. They slipped further into the trees, evading the Hunters with relative ease.

By the time they reached the old camp, where all the meetings between Chris and Laura had been held, the sun was low in the trees, getting ready to set. Both of them were staggering with exhaustion, having run as fast as they could without rest to warn the pack. They pushed further, breaking into the first clearing with a clatter of broken branches.

The giant tree flared at their proximity and John eyed it, still slightly unnerved by its seeming awareness. Stiles shared no such qualms, running his hand lovingly over its trunk, leaving shallow claw marks behind. He gasped as he inhaled, face pressed to the bark.

John noted the way the tree flared at every point that Stiles touched it, the way that the giant tree almost seemed to sway in order to soothe his son’s ragged breathing, tears still leaking from his eyes.

Just as John felt another twist in his gut, Stiles straightened as if pulled up by a string. He patted the tree lovingly as he said in a gravelly voice, “We need to go. It’s Allison.”

The echoes of a mournful howl reached them moments later. They moved faster.

\-----

Everything _hurt_.

Allison flew upright on her mattress, gasping, chest heaving as she tried to get air into her lungs. It felt like a giant hand had hold of her chest and was squeezing, tighter and tighter.

She jumped up, throwing the blankets off in a wave. As she crouched in the corner of their tent, between their trunk of things and the fabric wall, she looked over at Lydia, her tumble of red hair tangled and mouth a worried moue as she stayed very still on their mattress, one hand held out toward her.

“Ally?” Lydia asked slowly, her throaty tone laced with worry. “Love, what’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?”

Allison’s breaths raked through her clenched teeth, canines long and cutting into her lips. She tried to find some semblance of words, something to tell Lydia what was wrong with her. “I…” was all she was able to croak out. Frustrated, she let loose a growl.

Lydia opened her mouth then stiffened, sorrow twisting her face as she clutched at her throat. Her green eyes were wide open and shiny-wet.

Allison felt a pull, directly in her gut, and gasped out a sob, hands shaking as she tipped forward. She _knew_.

Her father... something was wrong with her father… with her Alpha.

Lydia pressed her hands over her mouth, shaking her head and looking at Allison with terror and anguish in her eyes.

Having read the books that various pack members had acquired over the years to help Lydia understand her abilities, Allison knew that Lydia holding back her scream wouldn’t save her father. It would only make his passing that much more difficult and it would hurt Lydia too.

It was the second most difficult moment of her life, but she managed to grit out, “Do it.” Lydia shook her head again, tears streaming down her face, and Allison screeched, “Lydia! Do it!”

Lydia inhaled with a sob and exhaled with a scream that shook Allison to her toes, despite the hands clapped over her ears.

Allison sobbed too, mouth open so bloody spit dropped to the ground to mix with tear drops. She keened, rocking back and forth.

When Lydia stopped screaming, she gasped before crawling closer, seeking Allison’s side. Allison felt her approach, felt the rest of the pack crowd around the front of the tent, pulling the flap open.

Her whole body _rippled_ , power curling and uncurling in her gut.

She felt the ‘wolf slip toward the front of her mind, tried to catch it but it slithered through her fingers, and when she blinked again, she knew her eyes were red, Alpha red, and that she was now an observer in her own skin.

Her head rolled to the side, looking at her pack _._ Her chest felt too small for the growl that rumbled there _bow down, kneel, Alpha now, obey_.

Lydia finally reached her, close enough to touch, and she reached out her hand _not let it touch, Other, danger, threat_.

Her lips peeled back, displaying her teeth as she growled threateningly at her mate _mate, mate, not mate, Other, never mate_.

Lydia moved back slowly, pain in her eyes, tears running down her cheeks _yes, back away creature_.

“Allison?” _Dark fur, familiar, pack_ – Scott asked soothingly, stepping closer.

She shook her head, unable to say anything _this one could be mate, could have him, smells good_.

She shook her head again, hands tipped with claws pressed against her ears _could be, could take him, press him down and lick –_

She growled, slamming her head against the wooden trunk, trying to silence her ‘wolf.

_So good, could be, could be, mate? Mate? Mate, could be, take, take, take._

She scrabbled away from Scott’s extended hand and hurled herself into the side of the tent, slicing through the toughly woven fabric easily. She hit the ground hard but her ‘wolf just shot her to her feet.

She fought herself, staggering a few steps before she threw herself past the half-built den and into the trees. She forced herself to run, vision flickering between normal and red-washed, until she fetched up hard against a tree trunk, knocking the wind out of herself as her arms looped the trunk and clung.

She slumped down onto the roots, vision wavering red before she passed out.

When she opened her eyes again, she tried to move but couldn’t, found herself secured to a tree on the edge of the clearing, tents and almost-done den in sight.

She growled, ‘wolf flaring again as she struggled against the bindings. _Bound, bound, will kill, take eyes, take ‘wolves._

She threw her head back and let out a distressed howl, _‘wolves, come, save Alpha_ , filled with fury for herself and _sad for fallen Alpha_ – no, for her father.

“Stop that.” _The yellow furred one_ – Erica snapped, pushing close and waving a cluster of leaves in her face.

Allison slumped in her bonds, blinking slowly, mind suddenly sluggish.

“What do we do?” _Dark hair maybe-mate_ , _yes, come closer_.

“I don’t know! She’s… she’s got the Alpha power, but it’s… wrong somehow. I need my book.” _Yellow fur leaving, she traps, can get away now_.

Allison’s ‘wolf wanted her to move, urged _flee now_ , but her limbs didn’t even twitch. Whatever Erica waved in front of her kept her in place, fingers flicking as her claws shot in and out of the tips.

“Why is she acting like this?” _Tangled fur, dirty, coyote, less than, useless_ , _trespasser_.

“Does this always happen when the power is passed down?” _Static and sharp, crispy._

 _Dark hair, familypack… maybe-mate’s mother_. “There’s always an adjustment when it’s passed down but it wasn’t like _this_ when Chris accepted it from his father.”

Chris, _father_ , her father, her Alpha, _old Alpha_ , she was the Alpha now, _Alpha now, yes_.

“This may be something…” _Yellow fur_ , _cannot escape now_. “If I understand this clearly, when the Alpha power is passed to a host unprepared or unwilling, the power may warp the host’s ‘wolf… if..." A pause, the dry swallow of a throat, "if unchecked or unaccepted, the power may cause the host to become feral…”

They all stared at her. _Fear… smells gooood_.

 _Curly fur._ “Can we fix this?”

“I don’t know.” _Yellow fur, distressed, yes, leave again_. “I’m going to try though.”

Allison hung there, against the tree for some time, eyes flicking to watch the ‘wolves around her with a narrowed gaze, growling when any of them got too close.

 _Dark hair, maybe-mate’s mother_ , _crying out_. “Oh gods, John!”

 _Two more ‘wolves now, father son family, blood, salt, sweat, anger, fear_.

“What’s wrong with Ally?” _Tall, brown fur, smells of leaves, worried._

“The Alpha power… it’s doing something to her.” _Other speaks, no, go away Other_.

“It’ll be okay, Lydy.” _Brown fur touching Other, smells bad now._

“I think I’ve got it! I need someone to get me a sprig of…” _Yellow fur, moving away with smelly papers._

“John, what happened?” _Dark-fur-mother moving away with father ‘wolf._

She was left alone as the whole pack moved further away, circling in and listening as _father wolf_ spoke lowly. She couldn't hear the words... she dropped her head and fought the urge to try and break free.

She slipped into some sort of daze, broken only when several sets of footsteps approached her. She darted her gaze among them, flaring her eyes and watching them flinch from her, from her _power_.

Her eyes flicked to _brown fur_ – Stiles, she told herself, Stiles, who didn’t flinch. He simply stepped closer, dipping down to look her in the eyes.

 _Back away beta_ her ‘wolf warned and Allison felt her lips curling in a snarl, teeth sharp as she snapped her jaws.

Stop that! She ordered her ‘wolf, shaking her head and dragging in a ragged breath, as Stiles remained unmoved, steadily staring into her eyes and waiting for her to respond.

She tried, swallowing hard and tasting blood. “St…” Focusing _hurt_. She keened, her ‘wolf bending her forward against the bonds. “Stiiss…” She slurred desperately, teeth elongating again.

“It’s okay, Ally, I’m here.” He bit his lip then took Lydia’s hand, moving them both closer though the red-head’s eyes flared with worry.

Several of the pack called out to him, warning him away from pulling them too close. He waved them away and took another step closer, taking Lydia’s hand and pressing her slim palm to Allison’s cheek.

The second Lydia’s skin touched hers, the power flared and sank back, seething below her skin rather than seeming to cover it.

She was alone in her head again, as much as she ever was with a ‘wolf inside her for her whole life, and she gasped, blinking up at her mate.

“Lydia…”

“Hey you.” The red-head whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.

“I’m s-sorry Lydia... I…” She hiccuped.

Lydia shook her head. “No, my darling. I love you.”

Stiles shuffled as if he was going to back away and it caught her eye. “Stiles.” She sobbed, feeling the tears trace down her cheeks once more. “ _What_ _happened_?”

His face twisted, his mouth a grim line. “We were all of us betrayed, Ally.” He sighed, reaching out his hand for her other cheek, thumb moving slightly on her cheekbone. “Peter Hale killed them both.”

She sucked in a breath, smelling faint traces of fear and blood and her father on him, pain flaring in her chest again. “Oh gods.” She moaned, mouth dropping open as she panted.

“Ally.” She blinked at him, trying to focus on his voice. “You have to accept the power. Erica says you’re fighting it.”

She sobbed, shaking her head. “Don’t wannit don’t wannit don’t wannit…”

He let out a shuddering breath, eyes wet too as he held her chin gently but firmly in his hand, forcing her to look at him, Lydia’s fingertips slipping away. “Ally, Allison, you have to do this.” He smoothed her hair from her eyes. “ _You_ are our Alpha now.”

The statement and the loss of her mate’s hand ripped away the calm the contact gave her. Her ‘wolf came back in a rush, tearing through her body as she pressed forward and the bindings gave way.

She ignored the shouts, the outside sounds, focused only on her lunge as she pressed _brown fur, leaves, sunlight, blood, sweat, salt_ into the dirt, back paws resting by his haunches, belly to chest, claws to throat.

 _Allywolf_ bared her teeth, flashed her eyes, demanding obedience from her beta. His eyes flashed gold in return but he didn’t lift his chin, didn’t expose his neck to her. She roared her displeasure, leaning closer to snarl into the insolent beta’s face.

“ _Mine!_ ” She bellowed. “ _Obey! Mine!_ ”

He growled, throat moving under her paw, chest vibrating against her belly where she could feel his heart hammering. “Not my Alpha…” He rumbled through his 'wolf teeth, long and white.

Heat, tight in her chest. “ _Lie!_ ” She dug her claws into his chest, above that sweetly pumping heart, and lifted him, slamming him into the dirt hard. “ _Mine! MINE!_ ”

“You’re not Alison anymore. So, no, you’re _not_ my Alpha.” He grunted, breath ragged around his broken ribs that _Allywolf_ could feel against her skin, so close to breaking the skin and pouring pretty blood into the air.

“ _Alpha!_ ” She thundered again, pressing close to his face, squeezing her paw. It was too easy to dig her nails in, to break the thin skin beneath his jaw. The smell of his blood made her moan, drool dribbling down her jaws as her eyes rolled in her head.

He didn’t fight her, just watched her face with his gold eyes as she squeezed harder. The blood was hot against her paw, as he wheezed, “I’m so sorry, Ally. I tried… I tried to get to him…”

She stopped squeezing, leaning forward to stare at him from inches away as he started to sob. “What?” She demanded.

He took a shuddering breath and continued, eyes cased above her head, toward the sky, “I couldn’t reach him in time and I’m so sorry. I wanted to, I… I _couldn’t_ … oh, gods, Ally, I’m so sorry…”

She panted, girl grappling with ‘wolf, chest heaving. She shook her head violently, trying to dislodge the madness gripping her.

She sat back, pressing her chest to the uninjured side of his, speaking close to his ear as she watched him watch her intently. “Stiles… I can’t do this… it’s too strong…”

He breathed back, “No, Ally, you can control it. I know you can.”

“No, I can’t.” She said forcefully, having to close her eyes for a moment to fight against the heat threatening to rise within her again. “I don’t _want_ this, I _never_ wanted this. It’s not supposed to be me. It’s supposed to be _someone_ _else_.”

“If not you then who, Ally?” Stiles asked softly, turning his head to look at her, eyes back to brown but glowing with gold flecks shining in the setting sun that were easy to see when pressed so close.

“You.” She paused before she said it again, but it felt just as right as the first time. She said it again, firmer. “You.”

He shook his head minutely, searching her face. “My dad would be better, Ally, or Boyd, he’s got what it takes to lead.”

She shook her head, howl building in her throat. “No time. It has to be you. I can't hold on much longer.”

“Ally…”

She snapped her jaws, growling into his face, “It wants me to _kill_ _Lydia_ , Stiles! I can’t do that, _I_ _can’t_. If I do and I ever come free of it again, I _will_ kill myself, I will do it, Stiles, and this pack will be just as Alpha-less as before. I can’t live without her, Stiles, and I won’t.” She hissed, twisting her free hand into the ground by his head, claws ripping into the grass.

His eyes studied her face for a long enough time that her muscles started to tremble with the ‘wolf pushing against her resolve.

Finally, in a soft voice, he said, “I accept.”

She surged forward, ignoring his yowl of pain, and pressed her mouth to his forcefully, biting his lip, tasting blood – hers and his – and screaming into his mouth as the power surged up and through her, into him. His body bucked but she held on, feeling his hands cling to her, digging into her shoulders with his claws, her skin tearing and blood pouring down her back.

The last thing she remembered before she passed out was his eyes flashing open so close to hers that all she saw was a red blur before the darkness pressed in.

When she opened her eyes again, she was on her mattress, stars gazing down at her. She blinked slowly, listening to the beat of her heart, feeling the blood flowing through her veins. The crackle of a fire pulled her gaze to her right.

She saw the pack ringed around the flames, speaking softly, as they passed food around. A figure sat near her feet, facing the fire, and it turned when she sighed quietly. 

Stiles smiled down at her, reaching for her questing fingers to lace them with his own.

"Hey Ally."

She felt her 'wolf arch its back, basking in his gaze. "Alpha." 

His eyes flared once, lightly, before settling back to their regular brown shade.

She studied him as he squeezed their fingers together to the rhythm of her heartbeat. Looking at his calm eyes, his placid expression before she smiled.

"It looks good on you." She whispered.

"My thanks." He joked, shaking her hand a little before releasing her, moving to the side as Lydia approached.

"And mine." She said seriously, holding his gaze.

He nodded, giving her another soft smile before he moved toward the rest of the pack.

Lydia settled next to her, smoothing down her tangled hair. "Hello my beauty."

Allison caught her mate's hand, pressing a reverent kiss to the palm before placing it over her heart. "He'll be a good Alpha." She sighed, flicking her eyes up to her mate's.

The banshee nodded, tracking the new Alpha as he made his way to the head of the gathering, clapping Scott on the shoulder as he settled next to him.

"I believe you're right." 

Allison winced as she tried to look, shoulders pulling painfully. "What is that?"

Lydia gave her a look that she couldn't quite read before pursing her lips. "Wounds from an Alpha take longer to heal, my love." 

Allison nodded, remembering the way Stiles' claws had dug into the flesh of her shoulders.

 _Good_ , she thought,  _that's good._

She let her eyes slip shut again, this time to rest, the feeling of her mate's fingers running through her hair, her Alpha’s laugh ringing in the night air.

\-----

Isaac watched from the corner as Stiles picked through Erica’s mixes of herbs, muttering to himself and pulling on his hair. He waited, making sure that Stiles was going to do exactly what Isaac thought he would, the idiot.

And he was going to do it, there was no doubt. Stiles didn’t care about himself. Well, he cared, but when one of his pack mates needed him, taking care of them outweighed his own importance and health.

His Alpha mixed things in one of Erica’s stone bowls, grinding the mixture together. The scent made Isaac wrinkle his nose in distaste. Wolfsbane and something else.

Stiles apparently found it disgusting too, making a face and looking at the mixture dubiously before sighing and scooping some onto a spoon.

Just before he could bring it to his mouth, Isaac murmured, “What are you doing?”

Stiles jumped, spoon and mixture clattering to the table top. He whirled, staring at Isaac with widened eyes, flashing red. “Gods, Isaac. You scared me.”

Isaac narrowed his eyes, knowing they shone gold in response to Stiles’. He stayed silent, waiting for Stiles to crack.

His Alpha tried to maintain his innocent expression for a moment longer before he sighed, dropping his shoulders and throwing his hand into the air. “Fine.”

Isaac kept his mouth from quirking only because he had several years of practice at ignoring his Alpha’s amusing tendencies. “Fine.”

Stiles shot him a look and started sweeping the mess up with a small brush. “I need to go after them.”

Isaac felt his eyebrows lift. “I’m sure Erica has it well in hand.”

Stiles placed his hands on the table, resting his weight against his palms and taking a deep breath. “She’s more than capable but it’s eating at me that Lydia is being held prisoner and, with the tiniest suspicion, Erica could be next. The Hale Hunters are the very worst sort.” His hands clenched and Isaac heard his claws dig into the table.

“So you, our Alpha, whom we rely on for strength and guidance, will allow yourself to be captured by said Hunters. You’ll be thrown in the dungeon, due to your mark,” Isaac pointed out and Stiles reached up, covering his pack mark with one long-fingered hand, “and most likely tortured.” He could see that he wasn’t getting through to the other man. It made him _furious_ all of a sudden. “They’ll know who you are immediately and they’ll _never let you go_.” Isaac bit out and his voice shook a little at the end. He clenched his own hands, trying to keep his emotions in check.

Stiles looked at him, a gleam in his eye. “They’ll know I’m from the pack, but not who or what I am, if my plan works.”

“And what, pray, Alpha mine, is your brilliant plan?” Isaac snarked angrily, letting the scathing sarcasm cover the fear he felt, that he’d lose another Alpha to the hands of Hale Hunters, another person who he loved killed by remorseless monsters.

“I’ll use the blend I created and allow myself to be captured.” He waved his hand at the bowl. “It will render me as close to human as possible, holding off my healing so they won’t know I’m anything more than a human pack member.”

Isaac stared at him, just stared because really? _This_ is the plan that his Alpha concocted?

“Well, say something.” Stiles finally snapped, clearly bothered by Isaac’s silence.

Isaac gritted his teeth, whispering heatedly, “This is the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard. And I was there when you and Scott stole Jordan from the sorcerers!”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “ _Please_. They were barely more than conmen, using Jordan’s gift to scare simpletons into believing in their so-called God’s ‘might’ and ‘miracles’.”

“This is madness, Stiles, and I can’t stand by and let you do this.” Isaac growled back.

“You can’t?” Stiles asked, voice flat.

Isaac sighed, casting his eyes toward the ceiling. “I know that I cannot tell you what to do, Alpha.”

“That’s not…” Stiles let out a growl of frustration, pressing his hands to his face. “I’m not discounting who you are to me, Isaac. I just cannot allow them to be there, in that place with those… those _beasts_ any longer. Erica has been gone for almost two months. Lydia’s been there for over _three months_.” He paused, looking toward the back hall, where Allison tossed and turned, muttering in her sleep, restless without her mate.

Stiles pressed on. “Allison will have the babe soon and she cannot, should not, have to do it without Lydia. She shouldn’t have had to live _any_ of this time without her. And Boyd! He loves Erica more than he knows he does – he shouldn’t have to worry about never seeing her again. We haven’t heard from her in over a fortnight.”

After a moment, Isaac stepped forward, placing his hand on his Alpha’s shoulder. “I agree, I really do, but Stiles, why does it have to be _you_ that does this?”

He turned his eyes to Isaac, strength and pain and anger and loyalty shining in them, and said with utter conviction, “Because I’m their Alpha. I’m supposed to take care of them.”

And there it was.

Isaac looked down at the mixture, felt the stench of it cling to the back of his throat. “You could die.”

“I could.” Stiles agreed, completely calm.

“You’ll be tortured.”

“If they didn’t torture me, I’d be suspicious.”

Isaac blew out a breath, listening hard for the rest of the pack. He heard nothing amiss, only the breaths of the sleeping. The people on watch were too far for him to pick up without focusing hard.

“Fine.” He finally conceded.

The corner of Stiles’ mouth started to curl up. “Fine?”

Isaac rolled his eyes, pushing at his Alpha’s shoulder. “Fine. How do I help you in this folly?”

Stiles started speaking of his plan, of placing himself just so to be caught by one of the meager traps that the Hale Hunters laid all around their manor, and Isaac felt his stomach twist.

Stiles was the Alpha but he was also Isaac’s friend, his brother, and the thought of him in danger was a painful one.

When the sun rose hours after that, Isaac hid and watched from the trees in ‘wolf form, muscles shaking with coiled tension. Stiles downed the mixture, staggering as the poison pumped into his veins, before he stepped into the trap and was lifted into the air, hanging by the leg in a rope snare.

He grinned at Isaac, a winsome thing despite the pain in his eyes, and waved, clearly pleased that the first part of his plan was working. They didn’t have to wait long until the sound of Hunters coming through the trees reached their ears.

Stiles gave him a wink as he sunk further back into the trees and, as two men in leathers reeking of silver and wolfsbane approached Stiles, Isaac had to wonder if he’d ever see his Alpha alive again.

“I’ll see you in a fortnight.” Stiles breathed as he was cut from the tree.

Isaac growled softly in acknowledgement and made his way back to the den.

He huffed when he saw everyone waiting for him and resigned himself to the anger pouring through the pack ties.

Stiles always gave them grief, even before he was their Alpha, and it was part of who he was as a person as well as an Alpha, part of the reason they loved him so much.

As Isaac explained to everyone, he noticed their exasperation but also how their frustration and anger was from fear and love for Stiles.

The most satisfying thing to Isaac, other than having their pack members back in their arms, covering them in their scent, was when Stiles broke through the bushes, cheeks flushed and heart racing.

John took Stiles by the shoulders and shook him, scowling and scolding, and Stiles laughed joyously, pulling his father into a tight embrace.

As they made their way back to their territory and den, Stiles clapped Isaac on the shoulder, “I told you I’d see you in a fortnight.”

Isaac rolled his eyes and Stiles wiggled his shoulder, gently knocking into him and making happy growling noises over and over again as they walked together.

This time, no matter the amount of control he practiced over the years at being immune to Stiles’ nature, a smile bloomed on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo??? What did you think? Let me know!
> 
> I'll be posting updates for this story and the series in between working on chapters for HG so I can't guarantee an update schedule - it'll just be whenever I can/whenever I've got something written. I know - extremely unhelpful!
> 
> For my HG readers: the next chapter will be up by the end of this week. Whoo!
> 
> Obviously, this fic mostly shows Stiles in flattering and wonderful lights, because these people love him dearly, but I hope I didn't bring it across as Stiles being perfect because nobody's perfect.
> 
> If you guys have any ideas or things that you'd like me to expound upon from FULY, please let me know and maybe I'll write a piece on it!
> 
> kisskiss  
> ♡ Scotch


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